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By and For
the Soldiers
of the A. Es F.
The Official
Newspaper
of the A. E. ?
Here's a page of stuff right from the trenches, assembled by The Review from a recent issue of the above named paper, published "Somewhere in Fri
anee.
Is Your Sector
Quiet? Then
Don't Play
Paree
Yes, I got my pink ticket, I did, and
went up to Paree. But that's all the pood
it done me. Take it from me, guy, if
they offer you a choice between a pink
ticket and a white one, take the white
one, every time!
You know how it was; we had just
come out of that "quiet sector" up
Looneyville way, where the whole damn
regiment sat up on top of the parapet
playing cards all afternoon, with the
Huns looking on and laying bets on the
heft of our colonel's hand. We was as
safe up there as we would have been in
mid-Kansas; nothing to worry about, no
work to speak of?nothing.
Well, I come down to Paris on a week's
leave. The first thing I know when I'm
turning over, enjoying my first real
sleep between sheets in eight months?
BANGO! Then?brrrrr-um! Bomm!
brrrrr-um! Boom! all right under my
window.
I though at first I was dreaming I was !
up to the front, and turned over again.
But, no; a lot of wdiistles and horns and
things started tooting, and pretty soon
somebody came rapping on my door and
said it was a alerte, whatever that is,
and I had got to get up.
Down to the Rathskeller
Well, I got Vm-. and got downstairs In
the hotel where I was staying at. ".1 la
carve!" the landlord shouts to me, and
pointed at the cellar.
"What's the good of going down
there'.'1' I ast him. "Is it a rathskeller
or something you want me to try?"
But he couldn't compree for a sou.
They're a dumb lot. these foreigners, i
even when you speak their own language
at them.
I finally went down there, and they
was a lot of people there in all sorts of
dress and undress, but nobody seemed to i
mind. Over in the corner they was a
Australian officer what told me, all in
English, that an air raid was on. That
was the first time I knew they spoke
English in Australia.
"Air raid?" says I, looking at my
wrist watch. "This is a hellova time to
be pulling that stuff?half-past three in
the morning!"
"I know it," he says, "but there's noth- I
ing one can do about it, now can one?"
That was too deep for me, so I just
says, "Ye-ah" and let it go at that. After
about an hour and a half they blew some
bugles out in the street to show the raid
was called off on account of wet grounds :
or something, and I went back to bed.
And Then Those Drums
But I couldn't sleep. Along about 8
o'clock they began drumming out in the
?-.treet, and all the church bells began to
ring. Then, right in the middle of that
I heard another BANGO! So, as it j
seemed to be the thing to do, I got up ami
dressed.
Down in the dining room I ran into !
this Australian officer again. "Is it an?
other air raid they got?" I says. "If
they try that in the daytime, they otta
be in for a awful kidding, they'd be so
easy to spot."
"No," says he, "it's that beastly long
range gun of theirs, you know. It fires
regular, every twenty minutes all day
long. But they never hit anything, you
know, except a few houses."
"Say," says I, "I thought I left the
THE REGULATION OVERSEAS CAP
front behind me when we hiked back
from Looneyville. Are they bringing the ?
front down here so's I won't be lone- !
some for it while Frit on leave?"
"No," he told me. "That gun is a good
seventy miles away?up at Anizy, as
near as we can figure."
"Up at Uneasy?" says I. "Well, it
makes it plenty uneasy down here,
don't it?"
That one was a little deep for him, so
he just says "Indeed!" Anyway, I reck
"I think it was probly put up to celebrate the opening of the first free lunch"
oned I was getting even for the one he
pulled on me in the early morning.
Off to See Some Pictures
But he didn't harbor no resentment. I
He ast me if I knew my way about, and
told me they was a lot of good pictures
in the Luxemburg galleries over across
the river. That was a new one on me;
1 always thought Luxemburg was a coun?
try, or something, but it appears it ain't.
Anyway, he showed me how to get there,
and I went. This Luxemburg place is on
the side of a big park, which is full of
statutes of people without no clothes on.
They is one with three guys all holding
out their hand at something and strain?
ing after it, I think it was probly put up
to celebrate the opening of the first free
lunch counter.
Well, I went into the Lux. I thought
when that Aussie officer told me they was
good pictures there that it was a
"movie" palace, but it appears it ain't.
They's r.othin' but stills in it. But they're
in colors, so that helps some.
They was some statutes, too. I went
around looking at them, and the .first
thing I know I ran into the Statute of
Liberty, only smaller.
"Hell," says I, "I was a boob to come
over here. I saw that in New York Har?
bor; what do I want to see it again for?
Besides, it isn't as good as what it was
there. It must have shrunk some with
the salt air or something, coming over."
Trailing the Bombs
So I beats it out", and goes roaming
down the Boulevard Saint Michael. It
seems the French call it the Boul' Meesh,
just like Michigan Boulevard in Chi. Off
to one side of it they was a big fenced in
place with a lot of ruins in it.
"Was that what the bomb done?" I
asks a Tommy standing by.
"No," he says, "them's the ruins of an
old Roman palace and its baths."
"Oh," says I, "is that so? I didn't
know the Romans took baths. I thought
the English invented it."
Leaving him to think that over, I rolled
along my way to the Louver. Somebody
had told me I oughtn't to miss it, so I
tried to get in. But it was closed up on
account of it being Saturday or some?
thing, and I couldn't make it.
Then I got lunch at a restaurant, but
I had to eat outdoors. I thought I was
through with eating outdoors when I
come to a city, but it seems they do it
because they like to. And in the after?
noon I went to a real "movie" house on
the Grand Boulevard?and what do you
think I saw?
Good Old Charlie Chaplin
The same show I saw in New York the
week before leaving! The same picture
of Charlie Chaplin's, only with French
titles on it. And then, when they got to
the news pictures, what was there but
our old regiment, passing in review be?
fore that French general, and me in the
rear rank of the third platoon of J Com
p'ny with my left leg putt coming down!
I got out of there. I had spent all day
trying to find something new in Paris,
and I couldn't. All the time they was
throwing up old things at me that I'd
seen before.
Well, that night I went to a vaudeville"
house, or rather a saloon and vaudeville
house combined. It seems that's the way
they do it here, so as to save paper on
door checks when guys want to go out be?
tween the acts. The bar is right out in
front of the. theatre part, so they get
you going and coming. They charge you
a franc for the same beer you could get
up at Looneyville for ten sous, only it's
a little staler beer because it has to
travel so far.
Just Dogs and Jugglers
And then the show starts. Say, there
was nothing but dog acts, and juggling
acts, and more juggling acts, and a dame
what came out and sang. There wasn't a
joke in it anywhere that I could get. And
the music? What do you think they
played for new and zippy stuff? "Alex?
ander's Rag-time Band," "The Merry
Widow" and "Every Little Movement"!
It's a fact!
I went out when the show was about
half over, figuring that I wouldn't get no
vaudeville, but only more ancient history,
if I stayed. The next morning I paid
my hotel bill, slung my bag over my
back and beat it for the railroad station.
Nope, take it from me, bo, there's
nothing to this Paris leave. There's
nothing new there. It's just like New
Y'ork, and I've seen New York. So
what's the use?
FREE ADVICE FOR
LOVELORN LADS
By MISS INFORMATION
Conducted for Suffering Doughboys Far
Removed from Their Affinities
HEART-TO-HEART TALK No. 2.
Dear, loyal, trusting boys! I hope you
don't mind my calling you "boys," be?
cause you are all "boys," you know, to
me. How I wish I could "mother" you '
all; for, from the letters you write me, J
asking me to untangle the ravelled skeins !
of your affections, you seem to me to be
very fine "boys" indeed.
I am going to tell you something that !
perhaps only a few of you have been '?
aware of. It is this: Your faithful !
sweethearts at home do not expect you to j
send them expensive souvenirs of France !
?all they ask is your continued love and j
regard in your wonderful, wonderful let
ters.
Send them letters, dear "boys"; lots j
and lots and lots of them. But do not j
spend recklessly all that money that you
have left over after your allotments, and !
I Liberty Bonds, and fines and et cetera
1 are paid for, on foolishly expensive gifts.
Do not buy any old French chateaux.
| and arrange to have them transported,
I stone by stone, to "the states," as you so
i charmingly put it. Do not buy your girls
?^any French farms, either outright or on
j the instalment plan. Modern women,
| you know, simply loathe having to work
on farms, and the charm and fascination
i of even a nice, ruined French farm would
I soon wear off.
Do not try to buy the Eiffel Tower for
! them; it is not for sale. And do not
j waste your money en expensive jewelry
and oil paintings of yourself!
A simple photograph, with a very sim?
ple background for your very simple face,
i will be all that the yearning heart on the
j other side of the water could possibly
j wish for, dear "composite" doughboy
(isn't that a perfectly lovely word?).
Save your hard earned money and send
it to some reliable real estate dealer in
your home town, and get him to buy you
a part interest in a little lot where you
can build a little home of your own, for
| you and "The" girl. By the time the war
! is over you will have saved up enough to
| buy the very best corner lot in the place !
ONE EXPLANATION
Private Blinkum. Whadda they mean,
; not allowin' us to wear no more leather
| putts?
Private Blankum: Whv, didn't you
read in the papers as how they were
goin' t' increase the number o' marines?
They're probly tryin' to save leather for
their necks!
OUGHT TO BE VIVACIOUS
Our artillerymen always have nick?
names for the guns they serve. The
French go us one better. They have
names?formally painted on the gun bar?
rels. One of the most highly descriptive
caught our eye on the road up to the
front the other day. It was christened
"Gaby."
Should socks be worn inside the pants
Or out? There seems some doubt,
For though I find I wear mine in,
I always wear them out.
The Army's Poetsl
LITTER SQUADS
They tell of the doughboys' wonder?
work
On the crooked firing line;
They tell of the pluck of the cannonet?
As they work in mud and slime; 1
And once in a while you may even heJ
Of the engineers doing their bit; j
But what puzzles me?I'm green, yo?*
see?
Is: Where do the Litter Boys fit?
Oh, it's plugging away in the battered
trench
Working in water and goo,
Carrying a litter in mud to your kneeaj
Trying to pull Bill through; '
Ducking the low places here and there,
Hearing the bullets whine,
But the glory is lacking, and so is the
backing,
For these Litter Boys of mine.
They tell of the work of the Signal Corps
men,
Sticking close to the wire;
They hand it out to the courier scout.
Making his run under fire;
And once in a while I hear them say,
"The Q. M.'s coming fine."
But what puzzles me?I'm green, you
see?
Is: Where do the Litter Boys shine"
Oh, it's creeping out to a shell hole,
Hugging close to the ground;
Swimming along in mud to your eyes.
Wishing your he-art was sound;
Making fast to a dead one.
Dragging him back to the lines;
But the glory is lacking, they need more
backing,
These Litter Boys of mine.
You read of our boys going over the top
And piercing the Hun's third line;
Of the box barrage that helped them out
And the fifty-eight twos so fine;
They often speak of the plucky lads
W:orking the typewriter _un;
; But what puzzles me?I'm green, you
see?
Is: Where is the Litter Boys' fun?
Oh, it's the picking up the pieces,
Lugging them in on a litter;
Nosing around through filthy ground.
Hoping you'll get a sitter;
Dragging them out of the dugouts.
Guiding the walkers and blind;
But the glory is lacking, and they rim
more backing?
These Litter Boys of mine.
H. W. T
PRAYERS
A Mother's Prayer
O God. look down upon my s? n
In distant France, now serving; Thet.
And save him from the frightful Hun,
Whose gas and shell destroy the free
But if, O God, 'twould end the strife
When I should offer Thee my son,
Then plunge Thy sacrificial knife;
I shall not weep when Thou hast done
A Soldier's Prayer
O God, protect my mother dear,
Who toils and suffers more than I!
Her love of country sent me here;
That she may live I will to die!
I'm ready, Lord; take Thou my soul
A hostage; let the past be made.
'Twas she who urged me to the goal,
A partner in this last Crusade.
I THOMAS F. COAKLEY. Lt., Chaplain.
HOW TO BE MADE A NON-COM
-By WALLGREN